


the glass lies

by orphan_account



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: ?????, AFAB reader - Freeform, Choking, Dirty Talk, F/F, Female Reader, Fluff, Implied Voyeurism, Insecurity, Light BDSM, POV Second Person, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Smut, The Masquerade, implied exhibitionism, implied imposter syndrome, kind of emotional, kind of insecurity, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nadia presses her lips to your neck. The lights in this room are low, and the walls strung with small lanterns. Their glow reflects off of Nadia’s jewellery, casting multi-coloured patterns across the floor. The colours complement her, lighting her features up with an other-worldly sort of glimmer.“I’m glad to have you here,” she murmurs, breath warm against your skin. Her lips are soft, and waxy with pigment, and you can feel her eyelashes tickle your cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you by my side for all of this.”When you look at your reflections in the mirrors, you can almost pretend you belong next to her. Dressed in her clothes, her jewels and fabrics, it looks like you belong here. Like your hand fits perfectly in hers.
Relationships: Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	the glass lies

**Author's Note:**

> reader is afab, referred to with feminine clothing & anatomy. set during the masquerade in the room with the mirrors (because i read it and was literally like 👁️👄👁️ for about five minutes). and i promise its not as angsty-emotional as the summary implies.
> 
> enjoy!!

Nadia presses her lips to your neck. The lights in this room are low, and the walls strung with small lanterns. Their glow reflects off of Nadia’s jewellery, casting multi-coloured patterns across the floor. The colours complement her, lighting her features up with an other-worldly sort of glimmer.

“I’m glad to have you here,” she murmurs, breath warm against your skin. Her lips are soft, and waxy with pigment, and you can feel her eyelashes tickle your cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you by my side for all of this.”

When you look at your reflections in the mirrors, you can almost pretend you belong next to her. Dressed in her clothes, her jewels and fabrics, it looks like you belong here. Like your hand fits perfectly in hers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Nadia asks. She moves her mouth to the shell of your ear, and you admire the red mark of her lips beneath your jaw. 

“I feel like I don’t deserve to be here,” you say. The air around you is heavy, but wonderfully so, like every word you say here in this room will be held tightly within its walls. 

You watch the reflections of her hands trail over your waist. The rings she wears, adorned with golds and bronzes, and a hundred precious stones, catch the light. Her fingers fiddle with the ties on your costume, pulling them loose, and you can’t stop watching. “You deserve more than this, more than me,” she says, quietly. “I fear I’m the one who doesn’t deserve  _ you _ .”

You turn your back to the mirrors, lifting your hands to cup her cheeks and run your thumbs across her cheekbones. Her eyes are like glass, like one wrong move might shatter her. You lean closer still, till you can feel her breath on your lips. “And yet, it was fate who brought us together,” you say, “and who are we to question Fate?”

“And yet,” Nadia agrees. Her lips turn upwards into a smile, and she leans in to kiss you. You can taste the beeswax of her lip pigment. Usually, the taste wouldn’t be something you’d find so alluring, but it’s her, and tonight, even the air tastes delightfully sweet. She pulls back soon enough, to murmur, “perhaps you would let me show just how much you deserve me.”

Heat floods your vision, and pools in your stomach. You manage to say, “perhaps I should show you,” before Nadia chuckles and turns you around, so your back is flush with her chest and you can see the mirrors. 

In the reflections, your cheeks are flushed, and Nadia’s eyes are alluringly bright. Her lips are curled into an attractive smirk, before she once more presses them against your neck, and your pulse jumps in response. 

“You could show me another day,” she says, and you’re inclined to agree. “For now, let me take care of you,” she finishes, and grazes her teeth down your throat until her mouth is at the crook of your neck and she begins to worry your skin between her teeth.

You exhale heavily, watching as her fingers return once more to the ties on your costume and slowly start to pull the fabric from your body. You’re not sure you could speak when her hands find your breasts and start to roll your nipples between her fingers.

Nadia whispers, “look at you,” reverently, like you’re her Goddess and she’s in worship. Like she can’t believe you’re standing in her arms. You lift your hands and wrap your fingers around her wrists, feeling her pulse beneath the pad of your thumb. 

You turn your head to reach her lips and she kisses you deeply. Beneath you, the ground trembles, and your knees give way. Nadia’s laughter is warm and full of love as she lowers you both to the floor. You sit on your knees between her legs, leaning against her chest until you’re certain your elbows must be digging uncomfortably into her ribs but she makes no attempt to move. 

Nadia merely continues to kiss you, drawing her lips down to mouth at your jaw, and then the hollow of your throat. Your head falls back with a heavy exhale as her ministrations stoke the flames in your stomach. 

Your dress pools around your waist, leaving your chest bare for Nadia to run her fingers over. Her rings are cold against your skin, and the shock is delightfully arousing. “Nadia,” you whisper, even though you’re not sure just what you’re asking for.

“I know,” she says, “lift your hips up, sweetheart.”

You do, and Nadia pulls your dress from beneath you, until you’re sitting in front of the mirrors unclothed. She sits behind you, trailing her hands across your body, still fully dressed. The satin of her own costume is smooth against your skin, a stark reminder of just where you are. 

“Good,” she murmurs. Her hand draws lower across your body, brushing across the inside of your thighs, and your legs fall further open, revealing more of you to her, and to the mirrors. 

You can barely take your eyes off of the reflection of her fingers as she trails them lower, and lower still, until she can dip one into your heat. You inhale raggedly as she crooks her finger, pressing the pad of it against the bundle of nerves inside you. The touch sends a heavy, hot burst of pressure up your spine, and you try to buck into it. Your breath releases in a moan. 

“Be patient with me,” Nadia says. She removes her other hand from your nipple and instead hooks it around your wrist, like a restraint. 

“I am patient,” you say, but the breathy quality to your voice betrays you. 

“Are you?” Nadia says. Her voice is low, and heavy, settling over you. “I think you would do anything for me to penetrate you with another finger. Or perhaps to use my tongue and bring you to climax.”

“Nadia…”

Her laughter now is amused and low. “Or I could bring you right to the edge, and leave you on the precipice. We have a palace full of guests waiting for us, after all. I could bring you to the edge of your release and then redress you, and bring you onto the dance floor. I wonder if anyone would notice.”

While she talks, she starts to thrust her finger in and out of you, crooking her finger so as to hit your spot each time. The dull pleasure rocks through you, but it’s just too little. 

“Please,” you breathe, wondering just what you’re pleading for. 

Nadia inserts a second finger into you, collecting your wetness on her fingertip. You’re so aroused that the stretch hardly burns, instead filling you to the brim with the delicious feeling of being taken. “Perhaps I should stuff you with my fingers and decorate your throat with my lips, to let everyone know you’re mine. We could go to the ballroom once more, and I’d strip you naked in front of all of our guests. They could watch, but who would dare touch the property of their Countess?”

The fantasy is painfully attractive, and you can’t help but moan once more. Nadia laughs.

“You would like that?” she asks, curling her fingers inside you once before pulling them out and rolling them over your clitoris. The rush of pleasure makes you jerk in her arms. “I think I would too. Alas, if I could make you moan loud enough, we might receive an audience in this room too. You could see yourself, and the hundreds of pairs of eyes watching you as I fuck you.”

“...Mhm, please.”

Your head falls back on her shoulder as she starts to rub against your clit harder. Your thighs begin to tremble, and you try to buck further into her touch.

“Stay still, my darling,” Nadia tells you. “I promise, I’ll give you everything you need. Just let me take care of it.”

“Okay,” you manage to gasp, as her fingers brush harder across your folds. “Okay, just… just…”

She shushes you again, leaning forward to kiss behind your ear. “Quiet.”

You fall silent. Her breath is warm on the back of your neck, and her fingers are slick when she drags them back up your navel to circle and pinch your nipples. Your own breath blows over the trails of wetness her fingers leave, turning them cold against your skin. It makes you feel so wonderfully dirty, and at Nadia’s complete mercy.

Her mouth begins to suck another love bite into your skin, on your shoulder, and then another on your collar bone. You’re unsure as to whether your clothes will cover the marks, come tomorrow. You’re unsure as to whether you mind that too much.

Nadia slides another finger into your cunt, thrusting against your nerves again. The heavy pleasure runs thick and hot through your veins. “Would you like me to make you come?” she asks, muttering the words into your ear. 

You nod, desperately. Perhaps too desperately. Enough that you might be embarrassed by it later. 

“Say it.”

She pulls her fingers from your heat once more, letting them hover over your clit. Close enough that you can feel her, and it sends pulsing heat through your core. You say, “please, Nadia. Please, make me come. Make me come for you.”

Nadia presses her smile into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Her other hand comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to let you know she’s there. “Good,” she says, and presses onto your clitoris again. “Just remember not to make too much noise. I may entertain the idea of pleasuring you to a crowd, but tonight, I’d like to keep you to myself.”

Her words make you bite down hard on your lip in an attempt to stifle any noise you might make as she starts to circle your clit. Slowly, her finger works over and over it, drilling pleasure into you. You couldn’t jerk away even if you wanted, and as the intensity starts to build, your eyes fall closed. 

The golden glow of the room is still visible behind your eyelids, like a crude harkening to the heavens. Nadia’s hand tightens around your throat. 

“Open your eyes,” she instructs, and you blink them open again, no matter how hard it is to focus. “I want you to watch when I push you over the edge.”

It’s difficult to draw your gaze to the mirrors, to focus on your body and hers. You can see your cheeks flushed red, and Nadia’s are just as bright. She looks like she utterly belongs under the low light, holding you in her arms. 

Your thighs start to shake, and you find yourself pushing your body into her hands as your pleasure builds and she rubs harder against your clit. Nadia brings you to the edge quickly, whispering words into your skin. You could only hope to identify them, with how thick the clouds of heat are in your head. 

“Are you ready?” she asks, and all at once, the pressure overflows. You watch through unfocused eyes as she guides you through your climax, unable to look away from her hands on your body.

“Oh, my Gods,” you manage after she’s worked you through your aftershocks. Her fingers still dip into your wetness, sliding through your release. The feeling of her fingers is faint and hard to focus on through the fog of your orgasm, but she brushes against your spot again and your body jolts of its own accord. She pulls her fingers free of your body and you watch as her reflection lifts them to her lips and she sucks your come from them.

“You are ridiculously attractive like this,” she says. All you can do is sink further back into her arms, breathing heavily. “I have half a mind to retire from the Masquerade early and take you to bed.”

You say, “why don’t you?” as if trying to provoke her. 

Nadia’s smile is indulgent. “As much as I wish I could, I do have a duty to my guests. And you, as my partner, should be by my side as I receive them.”

“Or,” you propose, “we could stay here, and I’ll pleasure you.”

She kisses you softly. “I would love that more than I can say, my dove. But I have to return to the party. If you wish to return to my rooms, you may. I’ll make excuses for you.”

You shake your head. “No. I’ll stay with you. I’m not sure I could stand on my own anyway.”

“I’m honoured to have had such an effect on you,” Nadia says, sounding like she’s teasing slightly. 

“You’ll let me return the favour tonight?” you ask.

Nadia nods, “I have no wish to stop you from indulging in my pleasure as I have in yours. But tonight. Let us redress you.”

You let her pull your dress back over your shoulders. She ties the corsetry with well-practiced ease, fastening your costume quickly. Nadia helps you stand once your clothes are tightened, brushing your hair from your face. You say, “thank you,” hoping she’ll know just what you’re thanking her for.

She does know. You think she’ll always know what you mean, whether you say it or not. Her lips make contact with your forehead, and she rubs her thumb into your jaw. “I apologise, darling. I fear our guests may be able to guess just what we’ve been up to.”

The knowledge of that is far more arousing than it has any right to be. If Nadia’s chuckle is anything to go by, she knows exactly how you feel about it. “We shall let them speculate,” you tell her, “after all, would they really dare to question their Countess on what she’s been doing at her own ball?”

“Right as always, my dear,” she tells you, “brains and beauty. You  _ are  _ quite the catch. Should we brave the lion’s den together?”

You think, with her hand in yours, you could do anything.

**Author's Note:**

> there are a great many firsts with this. my first piece for the arcana tag, my first pwp, my first reader insert, my first second pov.... etc etc.
> 
> really, my first smut. because i dont write smut. like, as a rule. i dont write smut at all. 
> 
> except nadia hot lesbian brain go wild
> 
> hope this was tolerable, if not enjoyable.


End file.
